


Highest Honors

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Series: As We Are - Side Stories [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Angst and Feels, Awkward Conversations, Bitterness, Cynicism, Dishonored - Freeform, Doomed Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explanations, Loneliness, Loyalty, Medical Examination, Moving In Together, Multi, Pace Mates, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Pre-Earth Transformers, Secret Messages, Surprises, Toasting, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5425406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before there was Bumblebee to make him laugh, or Cliffjumper to spar with him, or Huffer to show him how precious freedom could be for the suffering, Brawn was the leader of <em>another<em> group of Minibots—a group doomed to a fate they didn't deserve.</em></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Highest Honors

**Author's Note:**

> Pace - A company or herd of mules; in my headcanon, a family of Minibots; also a traditional expectation and an honor among Minibots who form one.

Ignition stonily suppressed a shiver as he ducked out of the medical bay. He hated the idea of feeling probed, even more so when the medic had audacity.

 _He wasn’t being audacious. He was making conversation…That’s even worse_ , Ignition sighed mentally as he wandered down the hall toward the quarters he and the others had been directed to when they’d first arrived. He hadn’t even bothered to go in the first time, sliding his case of belongings into the room and then making his way to the med bay, where he’d met Pacemaker.

“So…you’re a Minibot,” Pacemaker had said with a smile that Ignition wasn’t sure he should trust. “It’s not often we get one of those and they always seem to come in packs.”

“Paces,” Ignition corrected immediately and then clenched his fists tightly together, wordlessly kicking himself. He hadn’t wanted to come down this road.

“Yes, paces. My mistake,” Pacemaker apologized. “This pace of yours—where are they?”

“Don’t have one.”

Pacemaker blinked a few times, his mouth open to ask but Ignition answered first.

“Being a member of an esteemed pace is the greatest honor among our kind and for a pace to be…divorced…Unraveled, if you will—that’s the exact opposite. My pace was Unraveled vorns ago, so I don’t have one. End of story. Are you going to perform maintenance? If not, I’ve run a few self-diagnostics in my lifetime. I can manage another one.”

“Lift your arms and I’ll test your shoulder joints,” Pacemaker instructed uncomfortably.

Filing these thoughts, Ignition kicked one of the dual doors in front of him, denting it. When the doors slid open, Ignition let his optics trace the dark shapes in the room, the impersonal furniture set up for his convenience. Venting slowly, he strode into the room, barely taking notice of whatever metal corners he bumped into.

“Computer, where are the lights?” he called out, huffing when he received no answer. “They don’t have a vocal interface. They _need_ a vocal interface.”

When he eventually found the lights, he turned and found exactly what he knew he would: bare, gray walls, a berth in the far left corner, a chair, a low table, and his suitcase. Ignition swallowed uneasily as he found himself seeing something else…

“You stomp around like a titanium moosebot, Brawn!”

“Yeah? Well, you skitter like a zap-mouse, Cardsharp! Which do you think I prefer?” Brawn countered with a grin before spinning on the tabletop toward the rest of the pace and shouting, “Who wants high-grade?! Here you go!”

Ignition caught his and cracked it open easily, but beside him Hitch got smacked in the face with his. “Brawn, can’t you aim lower?!” Hitch complained.

Brawn smirked. “You’ll have to clarify how _much_ lower.” At Hitch’s affronted expression, Brawn crouched, grasping his shoulder. “Not how I meant it, little buddy. You’re good as you’re built and you’re built to be good. Open up, grin and bear it, would you?”

Sighing, Hitch opened his cube and managed a small smile, which was a miracle to those who knew him. Brawn beamed back before returning to his feet. “Iggs, you wanna do the honors?”

Ignition tilted his helm slightly in surprise. “I thought that was the pace-leader’s honor.”

“Well, I’ve been brushing up on the manual for these sorts of things—which is basically my Sire—and he says the leader can either make the speech or choose the mech to make the speech,” Brawn assured him, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him onto the table with him.

“Brawn!” Ignition cried as his energon cube splashed down his armor.

“That’s sure to be bad luck!” Overboard declared immediately.

“Shut _up_ ,” Blowsweep groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Sometime tonight I wanna get to the drinking!”

“Overboard’s right! Why wasn’t _I_ picked for this?” Cardsharp added. Ignition wondered if he heard more tightness in Cardsharp’s tone than was truly there, but the nanoklik passed quickly.

“Overboard, lighten up on the portents, okay?” Brawn suggested. “Go ahead, Nish.”

Ignition wiped down his front and let his fingers drip in his cube as he started, “Firstly, congratulations on being elected our leader, Brawn. I know you’ll be the best. You’ll keep us together.”

It amazed him how quickly Brawn could go from teasing to ceremoniously solemn in mere kliks.

“We’ll be one of the paces who sticks out from the rest,” Ignition added, glancing at each of the others. “There are so many which are being Unraveled. We can’t let that happen to us. We’ve got to set a higher standard, to be better than—”

“We are,” Cardsharp cut in. “Of course we are. Under the right leadership, we’ll be given the highest honors among our people.”

“Hey, I thought I was pretty clear about who I chose for the speech,” Brawn remarked, taking on a sterner tone when he said, “If this night turns out how I’m hoping it will, everyone’ll have a time to be heard.”

Cardsharp frowned but nodded, folding his hands in what was probably supposed to be a complacent manner.

“To our newly-founded pace,” Ignition finished after a touch of silence. “To our honor. And to our mates, our brothers.”

Brawn nodded approvingly, slinging an arm over Ignition’s shoulders. “Perfect. Love ya, guys.”

That hadn’t lasted long, Ignition of the present thought bitterly, stalking forward and snatching up his case, unlatching it and pulling out his portable computer. To his surprise, he found a message dated a breem ago, when he was still in the medical inspection.

**MESSAGE FROM: Brawn**

**SUBJECT: Today**

Ignition stared at it for an indeterminable amount of time. If he were any of his ex-pace-mates, he would have probably smashed the computer or worse, opened it, replied without reading it and cursed Brawn to the Pit.

Somehow the Unraveler had managed to contact the right bot in the right mood.

Ignition opened the message, trudging toward the chair and flopping into it before refocusing on the words:

_Heard from Windcharger that you enlisted. Your base is lucky. Don’t be nervous and make a nice speech like you always do. Good luck. - Brawn_

Ignition didn’t know who Windcharger was or how they had been tracking him, but he wished he could thank them. Somewhere _very_ deep down he had hoped a member of his old pace would seek to encourage him and it had happened.

But it was just making him even more uneasy.

**Author's Note:**

> I've hinted in "The Pacemakers" series that Brawn had another pace, so I decided to offer a tad more information. This is only the beginning of the end...
> 
> I hope you liked it! Please comment and tell me what you thought; I'd love to hear from you. :)


End file.
